Spoke too soon......

So for those of you who keep up to date with this blog, you may remember that I mentioned the shooting pains in my head that I was having last week. I had two days off work because of my headaches and was feeling a bit soft. I woke up on Tuesday and Wednesday with the pain in my head and nausea, which was very unlike me. Luckily, our cleaner was home on Tuesday and was able to help me. The pains continued for a short time and then ceased. My cautious father booked me an appointment with a neurosurgeon on Wednesday afternoon to have a check-up, as he was concerned about the shooting pains in my head. The neurosurgeon ordered a MRI and CT, which I thought I would get on Thursday, as I was tired and cranky and just wanted to head home. Thursday morning I woke up in a torrent of pain with nausea and the shooting pains in my head. Unlike the last two mornings, the shooting pains didn't subside and after 45 minutes of agony, I rang my parents at 4.30am.

Luckily, my parents are 10 minutes away - which includes getting out of bed, dressed and driving to my place. By the time they arrived, I was doubled over in agony, grabbing my head and throwing up in a bucket in my room. I can honestly say that I have never been in so much pain in my life. Looking back at it now, I thought I had an aneurysm and that was going to be the end of me. We have a history of high blood pressure and aneurysm in our family with people passing away at 36....which was how old I was. Dad bungled me into the car, gave me a injection of Maxalon to stop me throwing up and drove me to the emergency department of the local hospital. I hear about long waiting times in waiting rooms, but I was sitting down for about 30 seconds before they whisked me away to see a doctor. Mum told me yesterday that dad also suspected an aneurysm, which helped speed up the process. I was a bit out of it, but I remember them giving me a magical drug which made the pain go away.

I was assured by the doctor that it wasn't an aneurysm, otherwise I would be dead and not sitting up talking to the doctor. I felt somewhat reassured, but then wondered what else could be wrong. I was taken for a contrast CT and the results came through. Before I knew the results, I heard the neurosurgeon from the day before saying 'right, what ever that is, it has to come out today'. Luckily he was operating at the hospital that morning and he was able to fit me into his list. It was very surreal, going from lying there with a headache to facing fairly major brain surgery later that day. I had to ring work and let them know I was in the hospital and wouldn't be at work that day. The events of the day are still a little fuzzy for me, but I had an MRI and was taken up to the operating theatre. The MRI revealed a 3cm malignant brain tumour which was pressing up against my brain and causing all these issues.

I woke up a few hours later in the ICU - tumour free and in a magical cloud of anti-pain medication. I was a bit out of it for a while, I am told that my brother came to visit me and we had a great chat - none of which I can remember! I also have vague recollections of cancelling a date on Thursday night via voicemail...........I apologise now to that particular gentleman! Coming out of the ICU, I was advised that I can walk, talk, touch my nose, recognise people, colours and move all my limbs. I didn't have epilepsy, seizures or a stroke - which upon reflection makes me realise just how bloody lucky I am! I have spoken to a few of my friends who are doctors and they all have very concerned looks on their faces when they look at my scans. I guess the benefit of being non-medical, is that I didn't understand just how sick I was. The rest of this week will be tests, tests and more tests. This will include new tests and my two year check up. I feel somewhat ripped off that I am coming to the end of one cancer crap and starting a new one simultaneously.

Sitting here in hospital six days later, I am still coming to terms with what happened. I still can't believe that only a few weeks ago I was so excited about getting to my two year anniversary and having my port removed. Thinking that all this cancer shit was behind me. I thought I was done and dusted and could continue with the rest of my life. I was actually thinking about the blog and wandered what to write about since the tumour thing was finished. I guess I spoke to soon.

I am sure that I will once again find humour in this tumour, but at the moment, I feel ripped off, pissed off, angry and sad. That is even before I get on to the topic of losing my hair......again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Lumps, bumps and scars

Leading tup to the removal of my port - I was excited. I felt like it as a big milestone having that thing out of my chest. I had a very quiet weekend, spending the weekend relaxing and thinking about the past two years. Over the weekend, I was having strong shooting pains in my head - like I was being stabbed in the head. After an x-ray and ultrasound, it was discovered that I had a lump in my thyroid - for which I had to have a biopsy.

It was a good thing that I was so busy at work, because I didn't have any capacity to think about it. I do not think about the cancer coming back, even when I went to the same place for the ultrasound and biopsy. It was even the same man who did the biopsy - and I did tell him that the last time he stuck a needle in me, it was cancer and I don't want to go through that again since my ponytail is getting long!

Even after having a needle plunged into my neck, I didn't even think about what it could be. When the results came back as benign, it was only then that I realised that it could have gone the other way. I think I felt that they had blasted me so much with chemo, that there can't be anything sinister growing. I don't think about the cancer coming back, even if it does, I kicked its ass once and I will do it again.

The scar when my portacath was removed is healing well and the pain is pretty much gone. I did have a friend comment on it today to say that I should start putting vitamin e cream on to reduce the scar. I put Bio Oil on my last scars and they are barely visible. I started thinking about my scar on my chest which is pretty visible. I am not embarrassed by it, I am not ashamed by it and I wear it proudly. I think of my scars and a sign of a battle that I fought and won.

Two years on

This week marks two years since I found out I had breast cancer. I have been thinking about this week quite a bit in the lead up and wasn't sure how I would feel about it. Now that the is almost over, it has been good that I have been so busy at work this week, that I haven't had much time to think about it. Tonight is the night, two years ago, that my poor father received the results of my biopsy and he had to tell me that I had a malignant breast tumour. I would do anything to be able to take that away from my dad.

Tomorrow morning, just as we did two years ago to the day, my parents and I will head back to The Wesley Hospital. However, two years ago marked the day when my world imploded and I spent the day at the Wesley Breast Clinic being poked, prodded and squished. Tomorrow will have a very different ending - I am going to have my portacath removed! I feel that it is significant that I am getting the portacath removed on the same date as my world imploded. It makes Operation Kick Cancer's Ass nice and clean - all over in exactly two years. I will of course have to have follow ups and future poking, prodding and squashing, but I feel that the hard part is done.

I am not feeling anxious or nervous at all. I have had such a big week at work, that I am looking forward to the drug induced sleep and a sleep in! I do know one thing for sure though, I am definitely looking forward to not having the constant reminder in my chest. To all my wonderful family and friends who have helped me get through the last two years, I say thank-you. For all the women who are still going through their own Operation Kick Cancer's Ass, stick with it and you too will soon celebrate the end.

As we rapidly approach the crazy festive season...I say 'bring on a cancer free 2012'!!!!!!

Health, happiness and Barney.

I am not sure why, but in the past week or so I have been thinking about my diagnosis and treatment and the horror year that was 2010. Which I can now do without having bursts of angry tears - woo hoo! I have met quite a few women who have also had their lives hijacked by breast cancer and we all have things in common - great family, great friends and other support. In addition to the cocktail of cancer drugs we were on, some of these women were also on anti-anxiety or anti-depressants whilst going through treatment. I did utilise sleeping tablets as my sleep was disrupted by the steroids after chemo, but I didn't take valium or any anti-depressants. I was thinking what was the difference between me and these other women? We are all strong, vibrant and confident women who are tough and have come out the other side - so why was I different?

Upon reflection I have come to the conclusion that the difference was my big hairy horse dog - Barney. There were some people who were not supportive of the puppy idea and 18 months down the track I can see why. Dealing with cancer is stressful, but when you add in a pooing weeing puppy machine, it takes stress to a whole new level. However, I wouldn't change a thing! I got Barney the week after my first chemo treatment and he was born the week I was diagnosed - he is very special to me. No matter how sick I was feeling, I would take him to the dog park or kick a ball in the backyard, even if it was only for 10 minutes. On the days that I didn't have the energy, mum would take him to the dog park while I sat in the car and watched. It always made me feel happy and relaxed and I would momentarily forget about all the bad things I was going through.

I will never forget the day that I had my head shaved. As you can imagine, I was pretty distraught about the idea of being bald and sick and ugly. I came home from having my head shaved and went straight to my bed and cried and cried and cried. I didn't want to talk to anyone or see anyone. I heard a knock on the door and my mum came in saying that there was someone who wanted to see me. I didn't want to see anyone and told her to go away, she walked over to the bed and placed Barney next to me. He snuggled into me as I cried and started licking my head. I remember feeling very comforted by that little tongue licking my bald head. As gorgeous as he was, he didn't make up for the fact that I looked like Uncle Fester for months on end, but he did a bloody good job.

He was amazingly aware on the days that I wasn't feeling well - which was a lot. On the days that I struggled to walk down the stairs, Barney would patiently wait at the top of the stairs until I had reached the bottom and then run down; he would also do this as I ascended the stairs. Now as soon as I stand at the top of the stairs, he pushes past me and runs down to sit next to the hat rack - looking at his lead and then looking at me as if to say 'there is my lead, where are we going?'.

I was recently talking to a friend who has just finished chemo and was contemplating getting a puppy. I am definitely a dog person and would highly recommend Puppy Therapy. However, Puppy Therapy does come with side effects - you can think your puppy is a child and treat them as such, you can talk in a high pitch cutesy voice that only dogs can understand and no matter how hard you fight it - you will frequently find your bed half-taken up by a 40kg hairy horse hound who farts and snores all night! Ok, maybe that last one is just me.

So this entry is a salute to my big hairy horse dog Barney. He is a doggie celebrity in his own right, we go to the dog park and people who I have never met call his name and give him treats. Barney was the only one who was by my side more than my mother last year and he always manages to put a smile on my face even on my darkest days and for that I will be forever grateful. Thanks Barney.

Post-cancer dating......

Dating and cancer - not usually two words that go together and I still haven't found a brochure on the topic. I typed 'dating after cancer' into google and the first topic that comes up is 'cancer and divorce'. Once again, it is aimed for women who are older, have been married and have had kids. Once again, that is not me. There are some articles on the topic which are more relevant, but you do have to go searching for it.

I have been talking to the psychologist at the Cancer Council about getting back into dating. I have found that my poo-poo feelings have been exaggerated (yes, that is a technical term) and I take longer to bounce back. I have had a lot of disappointment when it comes to dating in the past, and I am not sure I am ready to launch back into that. I feel that the past 18 months have been bloody tough and I have had enough to deal with, without adding the messy world of dating to it as well. There is the issue of when to tell a new guy about what has happened and what it means for the future. There is a very high rate of return for the type of cancer I had and I am still unsure about whether I can have kids. Whilst I recognise that this is not the best conversational opening for a first date, it has to come out at some point. I am not ashamed or embarrassed about what has happened and am open to talking about it (clearly!!!!) - but when and how do you bring it up?

I have been saying for months that I wouldn't start dating until I had a fringe. I have been hiding my fringe under a headband for a little while now and today I wore my hair in a slick back ponytail for the first time since January 2010, so I can't use the fringe excuse anymore. After talking to the psychologist about this for a while, I thought I was ready to give it a go. I had the opportunity to go on a date with a fellow who I have only known for a few weeks. All seemed to be going very well and we were getting along great. He asked me if I had any tattoos and I immediately thought of my radiation tatts. Since I have the worst poker face in the world - he questioned what that look on my face meant. I am a pretty good judge of character (I wouldn't be a very good recruiter if I wasn't) and I felt comfortable enough with him to tell the truth. He had also previously admitted that he had googled me and actually quoted recommendations from my LinkedIn profile. I may be guilty of having typed my name into a search engine to see what pops up and I know that the first thing that comes up is the article on the ABC website about this blog. There are also results for the Mother's Day Classic walk and this blog. I can't imagine anyone googling the name of the person you are about to go on a date with seeing 'blogging my battle with cancer' and casually skipping over that to the LinkedIn result. I said that I do have tattoos, but they were for medical purposes not cosmetic. He naturally asked why and I told him that I was diagnosed with cancer at the end of 2009, but then quickly followed that up with that I had finished treatment and totally kicked its ass (I still smile when I say that)!!!!! Anyway, long story short - the date ended well and he was keen to catch up again the next night and the night after that. I already had plans, so we said we would catch up the next week. Anyway, after an email and a few text messages I still haven't heard back from him. Part of me thinks that I shouldn't have told him about the cancer thing and the other part of me thinks that he just didn't like me - which clearly shows poor taste so he is not worth worrying about anyway.

So, I thought that when the next opportunity presented itself, I wouldn't be so giving of information. This opportunity came when I was celebrating the Reds historic Super Rugby triumph last Saturday (woo hoo - this also makes me smile)...I met a new fellow. He had no idea of who I was and what had happened to me, which was refreshing. Like the last time I was fun, flirty and charming, well I thought so! Anyway, he also expressed interest in catching up again and we exchanged numbers. It's been a few days and still no follow through, will keep you updated on that one.......

Hello again...

It's been a while since I have sat down to write the blog. I have felt weird about coming back to it as I haven't really felt like myself and have wanted to shake off some of the anger before blogging again. It's been a few weeks since I recognised that I was having some issues dealing with life after cancer. Most of my head space recognises that life after cancer is glorious and should be celebrated; there was that part of me that was just annoyed about the whole thing. I would see girls who had long hair and bad hair cuts and I would think to myself, 'you b*tch, you don't deserve to have hair!'. My dear friend Lana left on a long overseas trip and I have really missed her, which I think added to my state of sadness. Rather than letting my anger and sadness stew, I sought some help for it. You get so much help when you are going through treatment, but there is just as much help when you are finished treatment and I decided to utilise some of that help.

I first went to see a psychologist who was recommended to me by a friend, but didn't specialise in cancer counselling. She was nice enough, but sitting there and telling her my story was pretty traumatic. I was surprised how quickly into telling the story that I started crying. I didn't think that the feelings were so close to the surface, but apparently they were. She also suggested that I draw my feelings. For those of you who know me well, you know that I am a talker, definitely not a drawer - so that wasn't going to work for me. I spoke to my breast cancer nurse about how I was feeling and she recommended that I see a psychologist at the Cancer Council Queensland and she has been brilliant (and free!!!!). Even in the few weeks from acknowledging I was struggling, seeing the first psychologist and going to the Cancer Council - I felt better. I didn't even cry when going through the details of diagnosis and treatment with the new psychologist. She gave me some really great tips about what to do when I start to feel those feelings of anger welling up inside of me. When I start to have those feelings, I have to think of something which makes me smile. So far the things that I think about include - any of my nieces and nephews, Barney's smiling face, the Reds having a home final and my tickets to the rugby world cup! It feels good to have things to plan and to look forward to without having to account for treatment schedule!

We have also broached the topic of dating and when do you tell a guy about the whole cancer thing. It feels like a whole lot of baggage to take into a relationship. Issues include - the uneven boob thing, getting cancer again and the possibility of not being able to have kids. At this point, it all seems too hard, but luckily I am not dating anyone, so don't have to have that awkward conversation. I was talking with a friend the other day and she said she would like to go home and be greeted by a man who tells her that he loves her. I am lucky that I do have that - but it would be better if the man didn't have four legs, a tail and answers to the name Barney!

In other news, I did the Mother's Day Classic Walk, which raises money for breast cancer research. My sister was the number one fundraiser last year and did the walk on my behalf as I was bald and sick and exhausted and couldn't get off the couch. However, this year I did the walk and was number 2 fundraiser for the event! I felt very proud to do the walk, but it was pretty confronting seeing the images of people who hadn't survived. I started getting upset and think about why I made it and they didn't. I started to think about if I had felt those little lumps and did nothing about it until after New Years - where would I be right now? I stop the 'what if' feelings by thinking of my happy things. I am fortunate to have so many happy things to think about.

I am feeling stronger in myself and feel like I can start helping other people get through this. On the weekend I am catching up with a 32 year old girl who has had her first chemo treatment. I spoke to her on the phone and she seems lovely and positive and upbeat, we even laughed a few times. I am prepared for it to be confronting and I have my many happy things lined up to think about if things go pear shaped.

I am glad that I went and saw someone to help me and I am feeling better for it. I feel that I am stronger and I can help other women get through this horrid disease and I am slowly working out who the post-cancer me is.

I have had cancer, now what?

It has been 17 months since my breast cancer diagnosis. So much has happened since November 25, 2009 - when I think about it sometimes it makes my head sore. Going through the gruelling treatment I think I was in survival mode, just doing what ever I had to do to get through each day. It's been over a month since my last treatment and I have felt a mixture of excitement, relief and anger. I didn't realise that I was feeling angry until a few weeks ago.

Last week I received an email from a friend's mother, who is an amazing woman who has battled cancer three times. She gave me some good advice which started me thinking about the past 17 months. She said that she found the first year after treatment stopped was very hard. She told me that I had to make sure I had to look after myself and be kind to myself. When you are going through treatment, you have the support of friends and family, everyone is aware of the tough times you are going through. It is very visible - I was bald, pale, had dark circles under my eyes and was generally looking pretty gross. When treatment finishes, people think that you and life are back to normal. I expected me to be back to normal, but after 17 months of being consumed by cancer - I am not sure what 'normal' is anymore. I will never be the same person I was before my life imploded on that November day, I am not the cancer version of me and I am not sure where to go from here.

I still have the support of family and friends, but now I find that little things which wouldn't have bothered me before - just piss me off. I have this underlying feeling of anger and I think it is because I am not sure where to go from here. My hair is back, I am working full time and life is good - but I still feel angry. I don't know how to shake this feeling off and not sure how to move forward from here. I know that I want to move forward and get as far away from cancer as I can. Right from the beginning I said that I don't want to be known as a cancer survivor, I will always be Karen, who just happened to have had cancer. But, now what?